The Buggin Changing--Part 1
by Machete Girl
Summary: "What? How?" Newt demands, nettle evident in his voice. "Medjacks come and make me go and tell you. I don't know!" Gally shouts, finally catching his breath. "Shuck it!" Minho hisses under his breath, and crosses his muscular arms. "Which direction this time?" "Well, that's the Shuck problem. A Griever got out and got him." Rated T for minor blood and a little violence.


The Buggin Changing

**A/N: Hello, Shanks! Here's the Greenie's 'The Buggin Changing-Part 1', which will obviously have a 'Part 2'. I have only read The Maze Runner and The Scorch Trials, so let me know if anything is inaccurate at all! :D**

**Now, on with the story!**

"Shuck it! Another bloody Griever," Newt mutters as he hurries up the stairs of the Homestead, holding the life-saving serum.

Inhuman screams from a boy emanate from the top floor where the Medjacks are waiting. The floorboards groan from his weight, and one snaps beneath him.

He skips it, and continues up until he reaches the wooden door on the very left at the end of the room. Newt pushes it open, and meets the usual, but unusual sight.

There is a pale boy with green veins snaking up his body. Foam trickles down his chin and wets his black hair from his mouth, and his eyes have rolled into the back of his head.

The two Medjacks are holding him down, while he thrashes and kicks wildly. Newt rushes to the bedside, and attempts to trace the correct vein to insert the serum in.

He receives a fist in his jaw instead, and punctures the wrong area. _It can be inserted into the skin as long as it pierces deeply enough_, Newt contemplates.

He injects the serum anyway, and sets the syringe on the bedside table. Despite the fact that the liquid is working in the boy, it does not calm him down. I

n fact, the patient becomes all the more corybantic enough that ropes or better yet chains—something the Gladers do not possess—will be needed.

"Hold the Shank. I'll get the bloody ropes," Newt instructs, and takes off out the room, and down the many uneven, un-matching stairs.

When he was referring to ropes, he meant "vines", and those are everywhere except inside.

He finally makes it outside, with more than a small limp, and yells at a group of boys loitering by the rotting, open door.

They are playing some game with a few green vines.

"Let me use that," Newt snatches the ropes, and turns to return to the room. But the largest boy grabs his shoulder, and makes him face him.

"Who says you can go off taking _our _vines? Can't you get your own, ya' Shank?" the buff teenager scoffs, crossing his thick arms.

"Hang on. Sorry, but I need it for the boy who's got the bloody Changing going on," Newt responds and pulls away from the brunette's grip.

"I didn't say you could leave, _Shank_," the kid says, and grabs Newt's arm.

"Look, the boy's going to Buggin die or hurt himself if he doesn't get help, okay? Just let me go," Newt tells him, and has an afterthought, "I'm a Keeper. If you don't let go, I'll throw you off the Cliff."

The brunette stares at him for a brief moment, and _finally_ lets go. Without further hesitation, Newt darts back into the Homestead, yelling a _thanks, Shank _over his shoulder. He made his way back up again, and burst into the room.

"Alright, now keep him restrained, or—where is the bloody Shank?"

"He got away," one of the Medjacks, another brunette with blue eyes, says.

"Shucks!" Newt hisses under his breath, and nods.

"Well isn't that bloody great. Where did he go? Are you looking for him, or what?"

The Medjacks both point simultaneously to the window, and Newt pushes past them. He spots a figure running in a frenzied manner on the grass of the Glade, moving in the direction of the Maze.

The doors will shut soon, and the last light is about to disappear already.

Newt bolts back from where he had come, yelling along the way. "Get him!"

When he finally makes it out, he spots Minho pursuing the kid. _He'll probably catch the boy_, Newt muses, and takes off after them.

He has _a lot _of ground to cover; however, and his bad leg prevents him from going about too quickly.

Perhaps if Minho holds him down until Newt reaches them, he can bound the boy, and drag him back. In the distance, he can see the Runner tackle the mad patient, and they tumble.

"Shanks, I could use some help!" Minho shouts over the noises and curses of the kid.

Newt is only twenty feet away. "Hurry up!"

"Hang on! Hang on!" Newt yells at the other Gladers who are coming to help."Nobody touch him!"

The others back away, and return to their duties, muttering. A few are curious, and look up every now and then to see what happens.

_Ten feet. Seven feet. Six feet. _

The boy kicks Minho in the head, and then the groin. The patient throws him off, and dives for the Maze entrance as Minho lets go, and rolls over, inhaling sharply.

Newt, however, is not taking any chances of losing his patient, and grabs the boy's leg, tripping him. A kick lands in his face, then a second smacks his mouth, and then a third hits his right ear.

Newt manages to get the vines haphazardly wrapped around the boy's legs, and ties a knot. _Now for the arm restraints_, he thinks, and reaches for the kid's flailing limbs.

Elbow. Jaw. Fist. Elbow. Head. _The Buggin Changing_, Newt thinks.

He has had enough. He needs to be restrained properly. Newt punches the patient in the head a few times, and the fourth one manages to knock the kid out, halfway through the doorway of the Maze.

Newt pulls the boy back, away from the doors as they begin to slide shut. He binds him with the remaining vines, and his two Medjacks arrive.

"Nice of you to arrive in time, ya' Shanks. Let's get him back to the Homestead before he wakes up," Newt says, and stands up. He wipes some blood off his lip, and onto his trousers.

He spits some on the grass, and walks over to check on Minho, who is getting up. "You okay there, Shank?" Newt asks.

"Yeah," the Asian kid responds, and slaps his friend's shoulder.

"Good that," he says, and puts a hand to his head. Was it just Newt or did the ground move?

_I'm probably_ _just dizzy because of the bloody Shank's feet_, Newt muses, and walks back toward the House.

* * *

><p>"Is that Shank awake?" Minho asks, handing Newt a sandwich, which his friend takes, and <em>devours<em>.

"Hey, slim it. You're usually more orderly than that."

Newt swallows. "No, isn't, and today, I'm making an exception," he replies, and finishes it off.

Alby ambles over, and sits next to them by the tree outside.

"Did I just hear what I think I did?" he asks, feigning disbelief. "I heard what happened only _two _minutes ago. Wow! You look like a pile of Klunk, Newt."

"That's a compliment if I ever heard one, but it's true," Minho mutters.

He earns a fierce glance from his dirty blond friend.

"Gee, thanks," Newt says.

Alby touches his mouth, and winces, pretending to be in a significant amount of pain. "Ah! That Shuck Greenie kicked my mouth!"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I'll take you to the Medjacks if ya' want," Newt offers, rolling his green eyes.

"I'd honestly be more worried if you got a splinter, dude," Minho says and takes another bite of his dinner.

"Or his leg," Alby adds. Newt shoots him a fierce look, and lets his gaze drop back to the grass. He _did not_ wish to be reminded of that incident, _ever_.

"Please don't mention it again," Newt says.

"What's your problem?" Alby nudges him, rolling his eyes.

Before Newt can respond, Gally appears in front of them, panting, the perspiration on his body a distinct stench no one else but him has. "The…out…inside...Greenie. He—"

"Slim it Gally! I can't understand what the Shuck you're saying!" Alby gets up, and so do Minho and Newt.

"The Greenie escaped…and got Richard."

"What? How?" Newt demands, nettle evident in his voice.

"Medjacks come and make me go and tell you. I don't know!" Gally shouts, finally catching his breath.

"Shuck it!" Minho hisses under his breath, and crosses his muscular arms. "Which direction this time?"

"Well, that's the Shuck problem. A _Griever _got out and got _him_."


End file.
